From The Woods
by Running For Anothers Dream
Summary: This forest is not like Everfree, not really. It is darker, deeper, worse in so many ways. Something lives here, cruel and violent, trying desperately to keep the three little fillies within. But Rarity will not lose them. She will not lose her sister. She won't. Not this time. so the mare lifts her head and treks on...never fully prepared for the dangers within.


A/N: This was originally meant to be posted on Halloween. That worked out great, didn't it? I'm very happy with how it turned out! I love the vibe that I was able to get across and hope that everyone who reads this does as well. If it's enjoyed, I'll maybe think about writing a follow up? Possibly?

* * *

_Far beyond Everfree_  
_There is a forest, wild and green_

The plants grow tangled here, so thick in spots that the path is all but gone. Rarity picks her hooves up high, higher, highest that she can but the thorns still snag at her fetlocks and the vines seem to have taken on a life of their own, trying to hold her still and threatening to never let her go.

It isn't like Everfree. Not really.

No, this forest is worse. Rarity can feel the violence here. The anger that spreads through the air like wild fire - for how dare you disturb our slumber, little pony, how dare you disturb our meal.

Rarity flicks her ears, but the only sound she can make it is the howling wind. The only thing she hears is Zecora's warning.

_There are more than simple shadows lurking in those woods_  
_Creatures haunt your every step - beware of what's beneath their hoods!_

Her pelt is a brown so dark that it's almost black, and she sits crouched among the foliage. A white cloak is draped over her back, a hood covers her face, and it's so clean that it's unreal.

Nothing should be that clean so deep into the Maeve Woods. Nothing should be so free of tears and stains.

It's just that the mare, she's crying. Broken sounding sobs that make her whole body quake, that make Rarity's heart twist and stutter.

_I sounded like that earlier_, she thinks, taking a small step forward. _I sounded like that and no one came to help me._

So she takes a deep breath and calls out a quiet _hello_?

_They will dance on your gravesite and rip flesh and bone_  
_Hurry, Miss Rarity, and bring those fillies home_

The mares head snaps up, hood falling away from her face. Except that it isn't a face, not really, but a void of nothing save gleaming fangs. The pony-that-isn't rises to it's hooves in sharp, jerking motions, snarling and growling and sobbing.

Rarity makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat that isn't a scream and isn't a gasp. She spins around - but the creature is there already, stalking towards her, light as day and dark as night all at once.

She screams and scrambles backwards, thorns that weren't there a moment ago grabbing at her legs and hooves. Rarity is trapped. Trapped and alone and frightened - and, more important than any of those things, most prominent at the front of her mind, is the thought that she has finally failed Sweetie Belle.

_And if you all should manage to escape with your lives_  
_Know that one of your precious fillies will speak nothing but lies_

"Rarity?" says Apple Bloom, hovering just inside of her house. "Can I - I need to tell you something."

The unicorn mare stops, turn to look at the filly with tired eyes. She smiles, but it's obviously forced. "Anything, darling."

Apple Bloom shifts from hoof to hoof. Looks at the ground, the trees, the spot just over Rarity's shoulders. Is so frightened and uncomfortable looking that it honestly hurts.

"It's okay, darling. You can tell me," says Rarity, softly.

And Apple Bloom looks at her then, all wide eyes and exhaustion. Her voice is soft, her words hesitant, like she isn't sure that she should be saying this or not. "When we were in the woods...we got separated from Sweetie Belle. I know she says nothing touched her but...when we found her, she was just standing in this weird clearing and staring at - at nothing!"

Words have never left Rarity feeling so cold before.

_A new voice is echoing through her mind, spouting words so foul yet to her ring true_  
_Gone is the pony that you once knew_

"Sweetie Belle? Sweetie Belle, it's time for school." Rarity peeks her head into her younger sisters room - not for the last time feeling less like a sibling and more like a parent. "Are you ready?"

It takes a moment to find the younger mare. She's sitting in the far corner of the room, half covered in shadows. Sweetie Belle is facing the wall, staring at it really, as if there's something there that only she can see.

Rarity thinks about her dream and she thinks about what Apple Bloom said. Takes a deep breath and forces herself to walk into the bedroom.

The air is cold. Unnaturally dark, too, even though the curtains are open. It's like the sun is too frightened to shine inside of here.

"Sweetie Bell?" Rarity stops a few feet away from her sister, suddenly unwilling to go closer.

When empty black eyes land on her, she knows why.

_All of Equis is what they're after_  
_Only you can stop this impending disaster_

"They aren't answering the letters," says Rarity, to an empty room. "I don't know why they aren't answering!"

Because her friends, they promised to always answer. To always come back to Ponyville should an issue arise.

This is most certainly an issue.

Obviously an issue.

A danger, even.

But they aren't answering. Not Twilight, not Fluttershy, not any of them.

_I'm really alone_, realizes Rarity, with a start. _I'm the only one here_.

_To do so, you must face your deepest fear_  
_So listen closely, Rarity, my friend so dear_

The shimmer spreads fast. Too fast. This strange mist that isn't light and isn't shadow, that isn't a mix of the two and isn't neither. It descends on Ponyville in the middle of the night. By noon, it has reached the outer edges of Everfree.

In it, there are voices. They whisper cruel things into Rarity's ear. Awful names and even worse stories, twisting the past until it seems like it might be a reality.

Telling her the others never planned on returning.

That her parents never planned on retuning.

That they all left because of her - not strong enough, my little pony, not brave enough or good enough. Always too little, alway too less.

Always alone, they tell her, always alone.

It is very, very hard not to listen.

_Once a mind is taken, there is no escape_  
_For your sister, death is the only fate_

"Listen to me," breaths Rarity, trying to ignore the tremor in her words. "And listen to me very closely, because I am_ only _going to say this once."

Apple Bloom is staring at her, all wide eyes and desperation. Ready to take any lie as the truth, any action as an order. Wanting guidance and safety and warmth, all from this mare that isn't old enough to be any fillies mother.

The unicorn has to breath in deep, and then do it a second time. Puts as much faith and hope and honesty as she can into her words, even as doubt creeps into her mind like a shadow.

"We aren't going to let this take Ponyville," says Rarity, nodding towards the front door of the farm house. "I'm not going to let it have Sweet Apple Acres, and I'm certainly not giving it my sister."

_One life or many, that is the choice you must make_  
_No matter the decision, your loss will be great_

It isn't Sweetie Belle any more. Hasn't been for a very long time. Just a pony-who-isn't that has donned the same pelt, the same face, the same colors.

A trick.

A lie.

A haphazard disguise, that stands before Rarity and falls apart at the seams. Sweetie Belle would never say such awful things, could never be so cruel.

And with a sinking, twisting feeling deep in her heart, Rarity realizes that her dream has come true.

_The hour of sleep is almost at end_  
_And so I must leave you, for I have yet another message to send_

"Run," breaths Rarity, gaze never leaving the form that had once been her younger sister. She can feel the shimmer lapping at her hooves, twisting around them and threatening to never let go, welcoming her to stay forever. After all, little pony, it's nice here in the void.

Behind her, Big Macintosh frowns. "We ain't getting outta here that easy, Miss Rarity."

"Get the girls and run," insists Rarity, taking a small step towards the snarling pony-who-isn't. Magic pulses through her veins, warm and steady, spreading through her body with each breath, each erratic thump of her heart. It settles in a blue glow around the tip of her horn.

And a part of the young mare, so small and faint and near forgotten, a part of her wonders if this isn't her fault for not taking care of Sweetie Belle better.

_I can give you but one last warning_  
_And hope that you remember this conversation come morning_

Rarity doesn't cry. Not a single tear. Not a single sob. Not even when she walks back to her house, alone and cold and hurting, and finds five letters laying upon her door step.

She doesn't read a single letter, either. Doesn't even bring them inside.

That night, she sleeps in Sweetie Belle's bed and tries to drown out the hate.

_Never forget and never forgive_  
_But know that even through grief, you must find a way to live_

The shimmer doesn't fade. Even after a week has passed by, it lingers in the air. A constant reminder of the battle that left Rarity's pelt torn

Of failure

Of doubt

Of friendships tested, tested, tested - and there they are, little pony, the mares who broke their promise, all happy and healthy and fine.

Rarity flicks her ears and tries to ignore the voice that sounds so much like Sweetie Belle. She doesn't smile, can't bring herself to even try, but she trots over to meet her friends all the same.

"Rarity! I'm so sorry that it took us so long!" Twilight flings herself forward, wrapping the unicorn mare in a hug. "Celestia just had me so busy."

Applejack nods along. "You won't believe how well the apple stand did out there in Canterlot!"

Fluttershy gives a small smile and Pinkie Pie throws herself into a story that Rarity can't really hear; the unicorn mare is too busy staring at Rainbow Dash, judging, judging, judging, for there was no contest beneath that mares wings and no excuse not to be at home.

No excuse not to answer.

"Your letter said something was wrong with Sweetie Belle?" Rainbow Dash is staring hard at the shimmer, eyes narrowed as if trying to decide what it is. The comment is off-handed and tosses aside, just something to fill in the void, to stand in for an excuse.

"Yes,' says Rarity, her voice oddly distant even to her own ears. There's an aching in her chest, a pounding, burning, throbbing feeling. "I buried her two days ago."

_This battle will be hard and it will be long_  
_But there will be many more times that you must sing your heart song_

Sometimes, that voice in the back of her mind, the one that sounds so much like Sweetie Belle, it gets loud and angry. Spits out awful things, curses and bitter words, ones that the deceased mare would never say.

These days are hard.

Other times, that voice is completely silent. These days are harder. It's near impossible to look any of her friends in the eyes. At every glance in the mirror, she expects to see black eyes staring back at her.

For you see, little pony, these is no death for those already dead. Just imprisonment that will one day fail, shatter, no long work and that shimmer will come back again, stronger than ever before.

A knock on the front door draws Rarity out of her thoughts. She isn't surprised to find that the kettle has boiled over and the clock skipped ahead by fifteen minutes.

"Rarity?" Applejack lets herself inside, giving a smile that's a little too bright to be true. They aren't sure what to think of Rarity now, these little ponies who weren't there and didn't see

pain

chaos

heart break

and a little unicorn filly sprawled out on the pavement, white coat stained red, face forever frozen with darkness.

"Come in, love." Rarity hurries to slide the pot to a different burner then spins around to grab the plate of cookies sitting on the counter.

Funny, she doesn't remember setting them out.

Oh, well. They look fresh enough. A bite into one prooves they aren't stale. And they're gingerbread. A nice surprise.

Applejack lingers in the doorway, shifting from hoof to hoof. She has this look on her face and Rarity knows what's coming even before it's said. "We gotta go, darlin'. That...that glimmer, it's settlin' over Canterlot. You don't gotta come if you don't want, but the rest of us have to leave. Tonight."

A cold chill sweeps through Rarity. Unbidden, she thinks of Rainbow Dash, who offered no excuses, just this broken look and a promise to come to tea, every day

of Zecora, who has been missing since the glimmer first showed up

of Macintosh, who sat in the pouring rain, pressed close to Rarity's side, offering no words but a steady, warm comfort.

In that moment, she realizes just how far apart her once strong group has been torn. Rarity rises to her feet and offers a broken, stilted smile. "No, of course I'll come. These things...they aren't that easy to beat, dear. It might be best..."

The unicorn mare trails off, but doesn't realize it. She seldom does. Just sets the cookie tray down and nods again.

Yes, go to Canterlot, little pony, with a wounded heart and a fading mind. Whether you will come back with either whole? Well...that is another story, entirely.


End file.
